Chapter V: Part 5

I passed forward then into a little dark alley, where it made me start to hear one call me by my name, and with much ado I perceived a fellow there all wrapt up in smoke and flame. “Alas! sir,” says he; “have you forgotten your old bookseller in Popes-Head Alley?” “I cry thee mercy, good Livowell,” quoth I, “what? art thou here?” “Yes, sir,” says he, “’tis e’en too true. I never dreamt it would have come to this.” He thought I must needs pity him, when I knew him: but truly I reflected rather upon the justice of his punishment. For in a word, his shop was the very mint of heresy, schism, and sedition. I put on a face of compassion however, to give him a little ease, which he took hold of, and vented his complaint. “Well sir,” says he, “I would my father had made me a hangman, when he made me a stationer; for we are called to account for other men’s works, as well as for our own. And one thing that’s cast in our dish, is the selling of translations, so dog cheap, that every sot knows now as much as would formerly have made a passable doctor, and every nasty groom and roguey lackey is grown as familiar with Homer, Virgil, Ovid, as if ’twere _Robin the Devil_, _The Seven Champions_, or a piece of George Withers.” He would have talked on, if a devil had not stopped his mouth with a whiff from a roll of his own papers, and choked him with the smoke on’t. The pestilent fume would have dispatched me too, if I had not got presently out of the reach on’t. But I went my way, saying this to myself, If the bookseller be thus criminal, what will become of the author!

I was diverted from this meditation, by the rueful groans of a great many souls that were under the lash, and the devil tyrannising over them with whips and scourges. I asked what they were, and it was told me, that there was a plot among the hackney-coachmen to exhibit an information against the devils, for taking the whip out of their hands, and setting up a trade they had never served to, (which is directly contrary to _Quinto Elizabethæ_). “Well,” said I: “but why are these tormented here?” With that, an old sour-looked coachman took the answer out of the devil’s mouth, and told me, that it was because they came to hell a horseback, which they pretended was a privilege that did not belong to rogues of their quality. “Speak truth, and be hanged,” cried the devil; “and make an honest confession here. Say, sirrah, how many bawdy voyages have you made to Hackney? How many nights have you stood pimping at Marybone? How many whores and knaves have you brought together? And how many lies have you told, to keep all private, since you first set up this scandalous trade?” There was a coachman by, that had served a judge, and thought ’twas no more for his old master to fetch a rascal out of hell than out of Newgate; which made this fellow stand upon his points, and ask the devil, how he durst give that language to so honourable a profession; “for,” says he, “who wears better clothes than your coachmen? Are not we in our velvets, embroideries, and laces? and as glorious as so many phaetons? Have not our masters reason to be good to us, when their necks are at stake and their lives at our mercy? Nay, we govern those, many times, that govern kingdoms; and a prince is almost in as much danger of his coachman as of his physician. And there are that understand it too, and themselves, and us; and that will not stick to trust their coachmen as far as they would do their confessors. There’s no absurdity in the comparison; for if they know some of their privacies, we know more; yes, and perhaps more than we’ll speak of.” “What have we here to do?” cried a devil that was ready to break his heart with laughing. “A coachman in his tropes and figures? An orator instead of a waggoner? The slave has broke his bridle, and got his head at liberty, and now he’ll never have done.” “No, why should he?” says another that had served a great lady more ways than one. “Is this the best entertainment you can afford your servants? your daily drudges? I’m sure we bring you good commodity, well packed; well conditioned; well perfumed; right, neat, and clean: not like your city-ware that comes dirty to you, up to the hocks; and yet every daggle-tailed wench, and skip-kennel, shall be better used than we. Ah! The ingratitude of this place! If we had done as much for somebody else, as we have done for you, we should not have been now to seek for our wages. When you have nothing else to say, you tell me that I am punished for carrying the sick, the gouty, the lame, to church, to mass; or some straggling virgins, back again to their cloister: which is a damned lie; for I am able to prove, that all my trading lay at the play-houses, bawdy-houses, taverns, balls, collations: or else at the _Tour à la Mode_, where there was still appointed some after-meeting; to treat of certain affairs, that highly import the interest and welfare of your dominions. I have indeed carried my mistress sometimes to the church door, but it signified no more than if I had carried her to a conventicle; for all her business there was to meet her gallant, and to agree when they should meet next; according to the way of devotion now in mode. To conclude: It is most certain, that I never took any creature (knowingly) into my coach, that had so much as a good thought. And this was so well known, that it was all one to ask, If a lady were a maid, or if she had ever been in my coach. If it appeared she had, he that married her knew beforehand what he had to trust to. And after all this, ye have made us a fair requital.” With that the devil fell a-laughing, and with five or six twinging jerks, half flayed the poor coachman; so that I was e’en glad to retire, in pity partly to the coachman and partly to myself; for the currying of a coachman is little better than the turning up of a dunghill.

My next adventure was into a deep vault, where I began immediately to shudder, and my teeth chattered in my head. I asked the meaning of it; and there came up to me a devil, with kibed heels and his toes all mortified; and told me that that quarter was allotted to the buffoons and drolls, “which are a people,” says he, “of so starved a conceipt, and so cold a discourse, that we are fain to chain and lock them up, for fear they should spoil the temper of our fire.” I asked if a man might see them. The devil told me yes, and showed me one of the lewdest kennels in hell. And there were they at it, pecking at one another, and nothing but the same fooleries over and over again that they had practised upon earth. Among the buffoons, I saw divers that passed here in the world for men of honesty and honour; which were in, as the devil told me, for flattery, and were a sort of buffoon, that goes betwixt the bark and the tree. “But, why are they condemned?” said I. “The other buffoons are condemned,” quoth the devil, “for want of favour; and these, for having too much, and abusing it. You must know, they come upon us, still at unawares; and yet they find all things in readiness; the cloth laid, and the bed made, as if they were at home. To say the truth, we have some sort of kindness for them; for they save us a great deal of trouble, in tormenting one another.

“Do you see him there? That was a wicked, and a partial judge; and all he has to say for himself, is, that he remembers the time when he could have broke the neck of two honest causes, and he put them only out of joint. That good fellow there was a careless husband, and him we lodge too with the buffoons. He sold his wife’s portion, wife and all, to please his companions; and turned both into an annuity. That lady there (though a great one) is fain to take up too with the buffoons, for they are both of a humour: what they do with their talk, she does with her body, and seasons it to all appetites. In a word, you shall find buffoons in all conditions; and, in effect, there are nigh as many as there are men and women: for the whole world is given to jeering, slandering, backbiting, and there are more natural buffoons than artificial.”

At my going out of the vault, I saw a matter of a thousand devils following a drove of pastry-men, and breaking their heads as they passed along, with iron peels. “Alack!” cried one of them, that was yet in a whole skin, “it is hard the sin of the flesh should be laid to our charge, that never had to do with women.” “Impudent, nasty rascals,” quoth a devil, “who has deserved hell, if they have not? How many thousand men have these slovens poisoned, with the grease of their heads and tails, instead of mutton-suet? with snot-pies for marrow; and flies for currants? How many stomachs have they turned into lay-stalls with the dogs’-flesh, horse-flesh and other carrion that they have put into them? And do these rogues complain (in the devil’s name) of their sufferings! Leave your bawling, ye whelps,” says he, “and know, that the pain you endure is nothing to that of your tormentors. And for your part,” says he, to me, with a sour look, “because you are a stranger, you may go about your business; but we have a crow to pluck with these fellows, before we part.”

I went next down a pair of stairs into a huge cellar, where I saw men burning in unquenchable fire; and one of them roaring, cried out, “I never over-sold; I never sold, but at conscionable rates, why am I punished thus?” I durst have sworn it had been Judas, but going nearer to him, to see if he had a red head, I found him to be a merchant of my acquaintance, that died not long since. “How now, old Martin,” said I, “art thou there?” He was dogged, because I did not call him Sir, and made no answer. I saw his grief, and told him how much he was to blame, to cherish that vanity even in hell, that had brought him thither. “And what do ye think on’t now,” said I, “had not you better have traded in blacks than Christians? Had not you better have contented yourself with a little, honestly got, than run the hazard of your soul for an estate; and have gone to heaven afoot, rather than to the devil on horseback?” My friend was as mute as a fish; whether out of anger, shame, or grief, I know not. And then a devil in office took up the discourse. “These pickpocket rogues,” says he, “did they think to govern the world with their own weights and measures, _in secula seculorum_? Methinks, the blinking and false lights of their shops should have minded them of their quarter, in the other world, aforehand. And ’tis all a case, with jewellers, goldsmiths, and other trades, that serve only to flatter and bolster up the world in luxury and folly. But if people would be wise, these youths should have little enough to do. For what’s their cloth of gold and silver, their silks, their diamond and pearl, (which they sell at their own price) but matter of mere wantonness and superfluity? These are they that inveigle ye into all sorts of extravagant expenses, and so ruin ye insensibly, under colour of kindness and credit. For they set everything at double the rate; and if you keep not touch at your day, your persons are imprisoned, your goods seized, and your estates extended. And they that helped to make you princes before, are now the forwardest to put you into the condition of beggars.”

The devil would have talked on, if I had given him the hearing, but there was such a laugh set up on one side of me, as if they would all have split; and I went to see what the matter was; for ’twas a strange thing, methought, to hear them so merry in hell. The business was, there were two men upon a scaffold, in Gentile habits, gaping as loud as they could bawl. One of them had a great parchment in his hand, displayed, with divers’ labels hanging at it, and several seals. I thought at first it might have been execution-day, and took the writing for a pardon or reprieve. At every word they spoke, a matter of seven or eight thousand devils burst out a-laughing, as they would have cracked their sides. And this again made me think, it might be some jack-pudding or mountebank, showing his tricks or his attestations, with his congregation of fools about him. But, nearer hand, I found my mistake; and that the devils’ mirth made the gentlemen angry. At last, I perceived that this great earnestness of theirs was only to make out their pedigree, and get themselves passed for gentlemen; the parchment being a testimonial from the Heralds Office to that purpose. “My father,” says he with the writing in’s hand, “bore arms for His Majesty in many honourable occasions of watching and warding; and has made many a tall fellow speak to the constable, at all hours of the night. My uncle was the first man that ever was of the Order of the Black-Guard: and we have had five brave commanders of our family, by my father’s side, that have served the State in the quality of marshal’s men and turnkeys, and given His Majesty a fair account of all the prisoners committed to their charge. And by my mother’s side, it will not be denied but that I am honourably descended; for my grandmother was never without a dozen chamber-maids and nurses in family.” “It may be ’twas her trade,” quoth the devil, “to procure services and servants, and consequently to deal in that commodity.” “Well, well,” said the cavalier, “she was what she was; and I’m sure I tell you nothing but truth. Her husband wore a sword, by his place, for he was a Deputy-Marshal; and to prove myself a man of honour, I have it here in black and white, under the Seal of the Office. Why must I then be quartered among a pack of rascals?” “My gentleman friend,” quoth the devil, “your grandfather wore a sword, as he was usher to a fencing school; and we know very well what his son and grandchild can pretend to. But let that pass; you have led a wicked and infamous life, and spent your time in whoring, drinking, blaspheming, and in lewd company; and do you tell us now of the privileges of your nobility? Your testimonials; and the Seal of the Office? A fart for your privileges, testimonials, office and all. There is no honour, but virtue. And if your children, though they had a scoundrel to their father, should come to do honourable and worthy things, we should look upon them as persons sacred, and not dare to meddle with them. But talking is time lost; you were ever a couple of pitiful fellows, and your tails scarce worth the scalding. Have at ye,” says he, and at that word, with a huge iron bar he gave him such a salute over the buttocks, that he took two or three turns in the air, heels over head, and dropped at last into the common-shore; where never any man as yet found the bottom.

When his companion had seen him cut that caper, “This usage,” says he, “may be well enough for a parchment gentleman; but for a cavalier of my extraction, and profession, I suppose you’ll treat him with somewhat more of civility and respect.” “Cavalier,” quoth the devil, “if you have brought no better plea along with you than the antiquity of your house, you may e’en follow your comrade, for ought I know, for we find very few ancient families that had not some oppressor or usurper for their founders; and they are commonly continued by the same means they were begun. How many are there of our titular nobility, that write Noble purely upon the account of their violence and injustice? Their subjects and tenants, what with impositions, hard services, and racked rents, are they not worse than slaves? If they happen to have anything extraordinary, as a pleasant fruit, a handsome colt, a good cow; and that the landlord, or his sweet lady take a liking to it, they must either submit to part with it gratis, or else take their pay in foul language or bastinadoes. And ’tis well if they ’scape so: for many times when the sign’s in Gemini, their wives and daughters go to pot, without any regard of laws either sacred or profane. What damned blasphemies and imprecations do they make use of, to get credit with a mistress or a creditor, upon a faithless promise! How intolerable is their pride and insolence, even towards many considerable officers, both in Church and State! for they behave themselves as if all people below their quality and rank in the world were but as so many brutes, or worse. As if human blood were not all of a colour; as if nature had not brought them into the world the common way, or moulded them of the same materials with the meanest wretches upon the earth. And then, for such as have military charges and commands, how many great officers are there, that without any consideration of their own, or their princes’ honour, fall to spoil and pillage? Cozening the State with false musters, and the soldiers of their pay; and giving them, instead of their due from the prince, a liberty of taking what is not their due from the people; forcing them to take the bread out of the poor labourers’ mouths to fill their own bellies, and protecting them when they have done in the most execrable outrages imaginable. And when the poor soldier comes at last to be dismissed, or disbanded; lame, sick, beggarly, naked almost, and enraged; with nothing left him to trust to but the highway to keep him from starving. What mischief is there in the world, that these men are not the cause of? How many good families are utterly ruined, and at this day in the hospital, for trusting to their oaths and promises! and becoming bound for them, for vast sums of money to maintain them in tipple, and whores, and in all sorts of luxury and riot?” This rhetorical devil would have said a thousand times more, but that his companions called him off, and told him they had business elsewhere. The cavalier hearing that, “My friend,” said he, “your morals are very good, but yet with your favour, all men are not alike.” “There’s never a barrel better herring,” said the devil, “you are all of ye tainted with original sin, and if you had been any better than your fellows you had never been sent hither. But if you are indeed so noble, as you say, you’re worth the burning, if ’twere but for your ashes. And that you may have no cause of complaint, you shall see, we’ll treat you like a person of your condition.” And in that instant, two devils presented themselves; the one of them bridled and saddled; and the other, doing the office of the squire; holding the stirrup, with his left hand, and giving the gentleman a lift into the saddle with the other. Which was no sooner done, but away he went like an arrow out of a bow. I asked the devil then into what country he carried him. And he told me, not far: for ’twas only matter of decorum, to send the nobility to hell a-horseback. “Look on that side now,” says he, and so I did; and there I saw the poor cavalier in a huge furnace, with the first inventors of nobility, and arms: as Cain, Cham, Nimrod, Esau, Romulus, Tarquin, Nero, Caligula, Domitian, Heliogabalus; and a world of other brave fellows, that had made themselves famous by usurpation and blood. The place was a little too hot for me, and so I retired, meditating on what I had heard; and not a little satisfied with the discourse of so learned a devil. Till that time I took the devil for a notorious liar; but I find now that he can speak the truth too, when he pleases; and I would not for all I am worth but have heard him preach.

When I was thus far, my curiosity carried me still farther; and within twenty yards I came to a huge muddy, stinking lake, near twice as big as that of Geneva; and heard in’t so strange a noise that I was almost out of my wits to know what it was. They told me that the lake was stored with Doüegnas, or Gouvernantes, which are turned into a kind of frogs in hell, and perpetually drivelling, sputtering, and croaking. Methought the conversion was apt enough; for they are neither fish, nor flesh, no more than frogs; and only the lower parts of them are man’s-meat, but their heads are enough to turn a very good stomach. I could not but laugh to see how they gaped, and stretched out their legs as they swam, and still as we came near they’d scud away and dive.

This was no place to stay in, there was so noisome a vapour; and so I struck off, upon the left hand, where I saw a number of old men beating their breasts and tearing their faces, with bitter groans and lamentations. It made my heart ache to see them, and I asked what they were: answer was made, that I was now in the quarter of the fathers that damned themselves to raise their posterity; which were called by some, the unadvised. “Wretch that I am!” cried one of them, “the greatest penitent that ever lived, never suffered the mortification I have endured. I have watched, I have fasted, I have scarce had any clothes to my back; my whole life has been a restless course of torment, both of body and mind: and all this, to get money for my children; that I might see them well married; buy them places at court, or procure them some other preferment in the world: starving myself in the conclusion, rather than I would lessen the provision I had made for my posterity. And yet, notwithstanding this my fatherly care, I was scarce sooner dead, than forgotten: and my next heir buried me without tears, or mourning; and indeed without so much as paying of legacies, or praying for my soul: as if they had already received certain intelligence of my damnation. And to aggravate my sorrows, the prodigals are now squandering and consuming that estate, in gaming, whoring, and debauches, which I had scraped together by so much industry, vexation and oppression, and for which I suffer at this instant such insupportable torments.” “This should have been thought on before,” cried a devil, “for sure you have heard of the old saying, ‘Happy is the child whose father goes to the devil.’” At which word, the old misers brake out into fresh rage and lamentation, tearing their flesh, with tooth and nail, in so rueful a manner, that I was no longer able to endure the spectacle.

A little farther there was a dark, hideous prison, where I heard the clattering of chains, the crackling of flames, the slapping of whips, and a confused outcry of complaints. I asked what quarter this was; and they told me it was the quarter of the Oh that I had’s! “What are those,” said I? Answer was made, that they were a company of brutish sots, so absolutely delivered up to vice, that they were damned insensibly, and in hell before they were aware. They are now reflecting upon their miscarriages and omissions, and perpetually crying out, “Oh that I had examined my conscience!” “Oh that I had frequented the Sacraments!” “Oh that I had humbled myself with fasting, and prayer!” “Oh that I had served God as I ought!” “Oh that I had visited the sick, and relieved the poor!” “Oh that I had set a watch before the door of my lips!”

I left these late repentants, (as it appeared) in exchange for worse, which were shut up in a base court, and the nastiest that ever I saw. These were such as had ever in their mouths, “God is merciful, and will pardon me.” “How can this be,” said I, “that these people should be damned? when condemnation is an act of justice, not of mercy.” “I perceive you are simple,” quoth the devil, “for half these you see here, are condemned with the mercy of God in their mouths. And to explain myself, consider I pray’e how many sinners are there, that go on in their ways, in spite of reproof, and good counsel; and still this is their answer, ‘God is merciful, and will not damn a soul for so small a matter.’ But let them talk of mercy as they please, so long as they persist in a wicked life, we are like to have their company at last.” “By your argument,” said I, “there’s no trusting to Divine Mercy.” “You mistake me,” quoth the devil, “for every good thought and work flows from that mercy. But this I say: He that perseveres in his wickedness, and makes use of the name of mercy, only for a countenance to his impieties, does but mock the Almighty, and has no title to that mercy. For ’tis vain to expect mercy from above, without doing anything in order to it. It properly belongs to the righteous and the penitent; and they that have the most of it upon the tongue have commonly the least thought of it in their hearts: and ’tis a great aggravation of guilt, to sin the more, in confidence of an abounding mercy. It is true that many are received to mercy, that are utterly unworthy of it, which is no wonder, since no man of himself can deserve it: but men are so negligent of seeking it betimes, that they put that off to the last, which should have been the first part of their business; and many times their life is at end, before they begin their repentance.” I did not think so damned a doctor could have made so good a sermon. And there I left him.

I came next to a noisome dark hole, and there I saw a company of dyers, all in dirt and smoke, intermixed with the devils, and so alike that it would have posed the subtlest inquisitor in Spain to have said, which were the devils and which the dyers.

There stood at my elbow a strange kind of mongrel devil, begot betwixt a black and a white; with a head so bestruck with little horns, that it looked at a distance like a hedgehog. I took the boldness to ask him, where they quartered the Sodomites, the old women and the cuckolds. “As for the cuckolds,” said he, “they are all over hell, without any certain quarter or station; and in truth, ’tis no easy matter to know a cuckold from a devil, for (like kind husbands) they wear their wives’ favours still, and the very same headpieces in hell that they wore living in the world. As to the Sodomites, we have no more to do with them than needs must; but upon all occasions, we either fly, or face them: for if ever we come to give them a broadside, ’tis ten to one but we get a hit betwixt wind and water; and yet we fence with our tails, as well as we can, and they get now and then a flap o’er the mouth into the bargain. And for the old women, we make them stand off; for we take as little pleasure in them, as you do: and yet the jades will be persecuting us with their passions; and ye shall have a bawd of five-and-fifty do ye all the gambols of a girl of fifteen. And yet, after all this, there’s not an old woman in hell; for let her be as old as Paul’s — bald, blind, toothless, wrinkled, decrepit: this is not long of her age, she’ll tell you; but a terrible fit of sickness last year, that fetched off her hair, and brought her so low that she has not yet recovered her flesh again. She lost her eyes by a hot rheum; and utterly spoiled her teeth with cracking of peach-stones and eating of sweet-meats when she was a maid. And when the weight of her years has almost brought both ends together, ’tis nothing she’ll tell ye but a crick she has got in her back: and though she might recover her youth again, by confessing her age, she’ll never acknowledge it.”

My next encounter was, a number of people making their moan that they had been taken away by sudden death. “That’s an impudent lie,” cried a devil, “(saving this gentleman’s presence) for no man dies suddenly. Death surprises no man, but gives all men sufficient warning and notice.” I was much taken with the devil’s civility and discourse; which he pursued after this manner. “Do ye complain,” says he, “of sudden death? that have carried death about ye, ever since you were born; that have been entertained with daily spectacles of carcasses and funerals; that have heard so many sermons upon the subject; and read so many good books upon the frailty of life and the certainty of death. Do ye not know that every moment ye live brings ye nearer to your end? Your clothes wear out, your woods and your houses decay, and yet ye look that your bodies should be immortal. What are the common accidents and diseases of life, but so many warnings to provide yourself for a remove? Ye have death at the table, in your daily food and nourishment; for your life is maintained by the death of other creatures. And you have the lively picture of it, every night for your bedfellow. With what face then can you charge your misfortunes upon sudden death? that have spent your whole life, both at bed, and at board, among so many remembrances of your mortality. No, no; change your style, and hereafter confess yourselves to have been careless and incredulous. You die, thinking you are not to die yet; and forgetting that death grows upon you, and goes along with ye from one end of your life to the other, without distinguishing of persons or ages, sex or quality; and whether it finds ye well or ill-doing; As the tree falls, so it lies.”

Turning toward my left hand, I saw a great many souls that were put up in gallipots, with _Assa fœtida_, _Galbanum_, and a company of nasty oils that served them for syrup. “What a damned stink is here,” cried I, stopping my nose. “We are now come undoubtedly to the devil’s house of office.” “No, no,” said their tormentor, (which was a kind of a yellowish complexioned devil) “’tis a confection of apothecaries. A sort of people, that are commonly damned for compounding the medicines by which their patients hoped to be saved. To give them their due, these are your only true and chemical philosophers; and worth a thousand of Raymund Lullius, Hermes, Geber, Ruspicella, Avicen, and their fellows; ’tis true, they have written fine things of the transmutation of metals; but did they ever make any gold? Or if they did, we have lost the secret. Whereas your apothecaries, out of a little puddle-water, a bundle of rotten sticks, a box of flies—nay out of toads, vipers, and a Sir Reverence itself, will fetch ye gold ready minted, and fit for the market; which is more than all your philosophical projectors ever pretended to. There is no herb so poisonous, (let it be hemlock) nor any stone so dry, (suppose the pumice itself) but they’ll draw silver out of it. And then for words, ’tis impossible to make up any word out of the four-and-twenty letters, but they’ll show ye a drug, or a plant of the name; and turn the alphabet into as good money as any’s in your pocket. Ask them for an eye-tooth of a flying toad; they’ll tell ye, yes, ye may have of it, in powder; or if you had rather have the infusion of a tench of the mountains, in a little eel’s milk, ’tis all one to them. If there be but any money stirring, you shall have what you will, though there be no such thing in nature. So that it looks as if all the plants and stones of the creation had their several powers and virtues given them, only for the apothecaries’ sakes; and as if words themselves had been only made for their advantage. Ye call them apothecaries, but instead of that, I pray’e call them armourers; and their shops, arsenals; are not their medicines as certain death as swords, daggers, or muskets? while their patients are purged and blooded into the other world, without any regard either to distemper, measure, or season.

“If you will now see the pleasantest sight you have seen yet, walk up but these two steps, and you shall see a jury (or conspiracy) of barber-surgeons, sitting upon life and death.” You must think that any divertisement there was welcome, so that I went up, and found it in truth a very pleasant spectacle. These barbers were most of them chained by the middle, their hands at liberty, and every one of them a cittern about his neck, and upon his knees a chess-board; and still as he reached to have a touch at the cittern, the instrument vanished; and so did the chess-board, when he thought to have a game at draughts; which is directly tantalising the poor rogues, for a cittern is as natural to a barber as milk to a calf. Some of them were washing of asses’ brains, and putting them in again; and scouring of negroes to make them white.

When I had laughed my fill at these fooleries, my next discovery was, of a great many people, grumbling and muttering, that there was nobody looked after them; no not so much as to torment them; as if their tails were not as well worth the toasting as their neighbours’. Answer was made, that being a kind of devils themselves, they might put in for some sort of authority in the place, and execute the office of tormentors. This made me ask what they were. And a devil told me (with respect) that they were a company of ungracious, left-handed wretches, that could do nothing aright. And their grievance was that they were quartered by themselves; but not knowing whether they were men or no, or indeed what else to make of them, we did not know how to match them, or in what company to put them. In the world they are looked upon as ill omens; and let any man meet one of them, upon a journey in a morning, fasting, ’tis the same thing as if a hare had crossed the way upon him; he presently turns head in a discontent, and goes to bed again. Ye know that Scævola, when he found his mistake, in killing another for Porsenna (the secretary, for the prince) burned his right hand in revenge of the miscarriage; now the severity of the vengeance, was not so much the maiming or the crippling of himself, but the condemning of himself to be for ever left-handed. And so ’tis with a malefactor that suffers justice; the shame and punishment does not lie so much in the loss of his right hand, as that the other is left. And it was the curse of an old bawd, to a fellow that had vexed her, that he might go to the devil by the stroke of a left-handed man. If the poets speak truth, (as ’twere a wonder if they should not) the left is the unlucky side; and there never came any good from it. And for my last argument against these creatures; the goats and reprobates stand upon the left hand, and left-handed men are, in effect, a sort of creature that’s made to do mischief; nay whether I should call them men, or no, I know not.

Hereupon, a devil beckoned me to come softly to him; and so I did, without a word speaking or the least noise in the world. “Now,” says he, “if you’ll see the daily exercise of ill-favoured women, look through that lattice window.” And there I saw such a kennel of ugly bitches, you would have blest yourself. Some, with their faces so pounced and speckled, as if they had been scarified, and newly passed the cupping-glass; with a world of little plaisters, long, round, square; and briefly, cut out into such variety, that it would have posed a good mathematician to have found out another figure; and you would have sworn that they had been either at cat’s play or cuffs. Others, were scraping their faces with pieces of glass; tearing up their eyebrows by the roots, like mad; and some that had none to tear were fetching out of their black boxes, such as they could get, or make. Others were powdering and curling their false locks, or fastening their new ivory teeth in the place of their old ebony ones. Some were chewing lemon peel, or cinnamon, to countenance a foul breath; and raising themselves upon their ciopines, that their view might be the fairer and their fall the deeper. Others were quarrelling with their looking-glasses, for showing them such hags’ faces: and cursing the State of Venice for entertaining no better workmen. Some were stuffing out their bodies, like pack saddles, to cover secret deformities: and some again had so many hoods over their faces, to conceal the ruins, that I could hardly discern what they were; and these passed for penitents. Others, with their pots of hog’s grease and pomatum were sleeking and polishing their faces, and indeed their foreheads were bright and shining, though there were neither suns nor stars in that firmament. Some there were (in fine) that would have fetched a man’s guts up at’s mouth, to see them with their masques of after-births; and with their menstruous slibber slobbers, daubing one another to take away the heats and bubos. “Nasty and abominable!” I cried. “Well,” quoth the devil, “you see now how far a woman’s wit and invention will carry her to her own destruction.” I could not speak one word for astonishment at so horrid a spectacle, till I had a little recollected myself; and then said I, “If I may deal freely without offence, I dare defy all the devils in hell to outdo these women. But pray’e let’s be gone, for the sight of them makes my very heart ache.”

“Turn about then,” said the devil, and there was a fellow sitting in a chair, all alone; never a devil near him; no fire or frost; no heat or cold, or anything else, that I could perceive, to torment him; and yet crying and roaring out the most hideously of anything I had yet heard in hell; tearing his flesh, and beating his body, like a bedlam; and his heart, all the while, bleeding at his eyes. Good Lord, thought I, what ails this wretch, to yell out thus when nobody hurts him! So I went up to him. “Friend,” said I, “what’s the meaning of all this fury and transport? for, so far as I can see, there’s nothing to trouble you.” “No, no,” says he with a horrid outcry, and with all the extravagances of a man in rage and despair, “you do not see my tormentors; but the all-searching eye of the Almighty sees my pains as well as my transgressions, and with a severe and implacable justice has condemned me to suffer punishments answerable to my crimes.” (Which words he uttered with redoubled clamours.) “My executioners are in my soul, and all the plagues of hell in my conscience. My memory serves me instead of a cruel devil. The remembrance of the good I should have done, and omitted; and of the ill I should not have done, and did. The remembrance of the wholesome counsels I have rejected, and of the ill example I have given. And for the aggravation of my misery; where my memory leaves afflicting me, my understanding begins: showing me the glories and beatitudes I have lost, which others enjoy, who have gained heaven with less anxiety and pain than I have endured to compass my damnation. Now am I perpetually meditating on the comforts, beauties, felicities, and raptures of paradise, only to enflame and exasperate my despair in hell; begging in vain but for one moment’s interval of ease, without obtaining any; for my will is also as inexorable as either my memory or my understanding. And these (my friend of the other world) are the three faculties of my soul, which Divine Justice, for my sins, has converted into three tormentors, that torture me without noise; into three flames, that burn me without consuming. And if I chance at any time to have the least remission or respite, the worm of my conscience gnaws my soul, and finds it, to an insatiable hunger, an immortal aliment and entertainment.” At that word, turning towards me with a hellish yell, “Mortal,” says he, “learn, and be assured from me, that all those that either bury or misemploy their talents, carry a hell within themselves, and are damned even above ground.” And so he returned to his usual clamours. Upon this, I left him, miserably sad and pensive. Well, thought I, what a weight of sin lies upon this creature’s conscience! Whereupon the devil observing me in a muse, told me in my ear, that this fellow had been an atheist, and believed neither God nor devil. “Deliver me then,” said I, “from that unsanctified wisdom, that serves us only for our further condemnation.”

I was gone but a step or two aside, and I saw a world of people running after burning chariots, with a great many souls in them, and the devils tearing them with pincers; and before them marched certain officers, making proclamation of their sentence, which with much ado I got near enough to hear, and it was to this effect. “Divine Justice hath appointed this punishment to the scandalous, for giving ill examples to their neighbours.” And at the same time, several of the damned laid their sins to their charge, and cried out, that ’twas ’long of them they were thus tormented. So that the scandalous were punished both for their own sins and for the offences of those they had misled to their destruction. And these are they of whom ’tis said, that they had better never have been born.

My very soul was full of anguish, to see so many doleful spectacles; and yet I could not but smile, to see the vintners everywhere up and down hell, as free as if they had been in their taverns, and only prisoners upon parole. I asked how they came by that privilege; and a devil told me, there was no need of shackling them, or so much as shutting them up; for there was no fear of their making a ’scape, that took so much pains in the world, and made it their whole business to come thither. “Only,” says he, “if we can keep them from throwing water in the fire, as they do in their wines, we are well enough. But if you would see somewhat worth the while, leave these fellows, and follow me; and I’ll show ye Judas and his brethren, the stewards, and purse-bearers.” So I did as he bade me, and he brought me to Judas, and his companions, who had no faces, divers of them, and most of them no foreheads.

I was well enough pleased to see him, and to be better informed; for I had ever fancied him to be a kind of an olive-coloured, tawny-complexioned fellow, without a beard; and an Eunuch into the bargain: which perhaps (nay probably) he was; for nothing but a capon, a thing unmanned, could ever have been guilty of so sordid and treacherous a villainy, as to sell and betray his Master, with a kiss; and after that, so cowardly, as to hang himself in despair, when he had done. I do believe, however, what the Church says of him, that he had a carrot beard and a red head; but it may be his beard was burnt, and as he appeared to me in hell I could not but take him for an Eunuch, which to deal freely, is my opinion of all the devils, for they have no hair; and they are for the most part wrinkled and baker-legged.

Judas was beset with a great many money-mongers and purse-bearers, that were telling him stories of the pranks they had played, and the tricks they had put upon their masters, after his example. Coming up to them, I perceived that their punishment was like that of Titius, who had a vulture continually gnawing upon his liver; for there were a number of ravenous birds perpetually preying upon them, and tearing off their flesh; which grew again as fast as they devoured it; a devil in the meantime crying out, and the damned filling the whole place with clamour and horror; Judas, with his purse, and his pot by his side, bearing a large part in the outcry and torment. I had a huge mind (methought) to have a word or two with Judas, and so I went to him with this greeting: “Thou perfidious, impudent, impious traitor,” said I, “to sell thy Lord and Master at so base a price, like an avaricious rascal.” “If men,” said he, “were not ungrateful, they would rather pity, or commend me, for an action so much to their advantage, and done in order to their redemption. The misery is mine, that am to have no part myself in the benefit I have procured to others. Some heretics there are (I must confess to my comfort) that adore me for’t. But do you take me for the only Judas? No, no. There have been many since the death of my Master, and there are at this day, more wicked and ungrateful, ten thousand times than myself; that buy the Lord of Life, as well as sell Him, scourging and crucifying Him daily with more spite and ignominy than the Jews. The truth is, I had an itch to be fingering of money, and bartering, from my very entrance into the apostleship. I began, you know, with the pot of ointment, which I would fain have sold, under colour of a relief to the poor. And I went on, to the selling of my Master, wherein I did the world a greater good than I intended, to my own irreparable ruin. My repentance now signifies nothing. To conclude, I am the only steward that’s condemned for selling; all the rest are damned for buying: and I must entreat you, to have a better opinion of me; for if you’ll look but a little lower here, you’ll find people a thousand times worse than myself.” “Withdraw then,” said I, “for I have had talk enough with Judas.”

I went down then some few steps, as Judas directed me; and there I saw a world of devils upon the march, with rods and stirrup-leathers in their hands, lashing a company of handsome lasses, stark naked, and driving them out of hell, (which methought was pity, and if I had had some of them in a corner, I should have treated them better) with the stirrup-leathers, they disciplined a litter of bawds. I could not imagine why these, of all others, should be expelled the place, and asked the question. “Oh,” says a devil, “these are our factresses in the world, and the best we have, so that we send them back again to bring more grist to the mill: and indeed, if it were not for women, hell would be but thinly peopled; for what with the art, the beauty, and the allurements of the young wenches, and the sage advice and counsel of the bawds, they do us very good service. Nay, for fear any of our good friends should tire upon the road, they send them to us on horseback, or bring them themselves, e’en to the very gates, lest they should miss their way.”

Pursuing my journey, I saw, a good way before me, a large building, that looked (methought) like some enchanted castle, or the picture of ill-luck; it was all ruinous, the chimneys down, the planchers all to pieces, only the bars of the windows standing; the doors all bedaubed with dirt, and patched up with barrel-heads, where they had been broken. The glass gone, and here and there a quarrel supplied with paper. I made no doubt at first but the house was forsaken; but, coming nearer, I found it otherwise, by a horrible confusion of tongues and noises within it. As I came just up to the door, one opened it, and I saw in the house many devils, thieves, and whores. One of the craftiest jades in the pack, placed herself presently upon the threshold, and made her address to my guide and me. “Gentlemen,” says she, “how comes it to pass, I pray’e, that people are damned both for giving and taking? The thief is condemned for taking away from another; and we are condemned for giving what is our own. I do not find, truly, any injustice in our trade; and if it be lawful to give every one their own, and out of their own, why are we condemned?” We found it a nice point, and sent the wench to counsel learned in the law, for a resolution in the case. Her mentioning of thieves made me inquire after the scriveners and notaries. “Is it possible,” said I, “that you should have none of them here? for I do not remember that I have seen so much as one of them upon the way; and yet I had occasion for a scrivener, and made a search for one.” “I do believe indeed,” quoth the devil, “that you have not found any of them upon the road.” “How then?” said I, “what, are they all saved?” “No, no,” cried the devil, “but you must understand, that they do not foot it hither, as other mortals; but come upon the wing, in troops like wild geese; so that ’tis no wonder you see none of them upon the way. We have millions of them, but they cut it away in a trice, for they are damnedly rank-winged, and will make a flight, in the third part of a minute, betwixt earth and hell.” “But if there be so many,” said I, “how comes it we see none of them?” “For that,” quoth the devil, “we change their names, when they come hither once, and call them no longer notaries or scriveners, but cats: and they are so good mousers, that though this place is large, old, and ruinous, yet you see not so much as a rat or a mouse in hell, how full soever of all other sorts of vermin.” “Now ye talk of vermin,” said I, “are there any catchpoles here?” “No, not one,” says he. “How so,” quoth I, “when I dare undertake there are five hundred rogues of the trade for one that’s ought.” “The reason is,” says the devil, “that every catchpole upon earth carries a hell in’s bosom.” “You have still,” said I, crossing myself, “an aching tooth at those poor varlets.” “Why not,” cried he, “for they are but devils incarnate, and so damnedly versed in the art of tormenting, that we live in continual dread of losing our places, and that His Infernal Majesty should take these rascals into his service.”